


What Useless Tools Ourselves

by oliviathecf



Series: Writer's Favorites [13]
Category: Ant-Man (Comics), Marvel, Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Road Trip, motel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviathecf/pseuds/oliviathecf
Summary: They were both ruined.





	What Useless Tools Ourselves

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 4k word hate letter to the entire state of Florida, disguised as porn. Every negative feeling that Scott or Eric has about Florida is a feeling that I have about it. 
> 
> I started writing this while sitting in a nail salon in Florida, third in line to get a pedicure behind my mom and my twin sister. The water had started to get cold and I was staring in the general direction of a sour faced older woman while thinking about how many palm trees I had seen. And that's where the opening line came from. The story was built around it, as I tried to think about who would fit in it. 
> 
> I settled on a post-Secret Empire AU where the Guardians of the Galaxy told Scott Lang to fuck off instead of taking him to space. Then Eric invited himself to the party and the story was born. You don't need to have read Secret Empire to read the story, just know that Scott betrayed the good guys because the bad guys kidnapped his daughter and he had no choice, and that Eric really regretted being on the bad team.
> 
> By the way, if you've never read a story by me featuring Eric, I roll with a lot of headcanon. I put him at around 23/24 at the oldest. He doesn't age because he's an LMD. He also has freckles! 
> 
> Title is from "Missed the Boat" by Modest Mouse.
> 
> Without any further preamble, enjoy this entirely personal story.

He thought, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he was really starting to hate the palm trees as Eric looked over at him from the passenger seat with green eyes too wide and too innocent. The eyes of a child on the face of a man he’s punched before, just a few months after everything went to hell. Scott’s hands gripped onto the steering wheel tighter, white knuckled and hurting because he couldn't tell when they went from fighting to fucking, but it had happened around the same time he was blackmailed into telling the Hydra Avengers where the resistance base was.

O’Grady’s not a good kid nor a good man, but Scott thought that he definitely wasn't one himself and he supposed they had that in common. For once, Eric managed to keep his mouth shut, head turned back towards the window. They didn't speak but he could tell that the kid hadn't been to Florida before from the awed, shocked way he stared at the billboards advertising Jesus and injury lawyers and vasectomies. 

Eric’s from Boston or somewhere close, but Scott’s never bothered to ask, he just assumed so from the way he always insisted on getting coffee on the off chance they pass a Dunkin Donuts. He's never experienced Florida, not like Scott has, not like Scott wished he wasn't. The endless strip malls and strip clubs, pulling off the eternal highway to stay in discrete roadside motels because they have to keep moving, getting glares from the person from the front desk as they look over his shoulder at the _kid_ he's brought with him, too old to be his son but too young for him to fuck. The snide remarks about their hourly rates, the way O’Grady smirked at him to make it worse. 

Repeat ad infinitum as they drive all over the state, running from the law even though Scott isn't even sure they're looking for them anyway. But the Avengers might be and, after the Guardians of the Galaxy told him to fuck off, he had no other choice. Scott didn't know why he let Eric travel with him, loneliness or a feeling of solidarity for a former Ant-Man when none of them were in a good place. Plus, as bad as it made Scott feel, he was a warm, willing body and he had trouble finding those lately. O’Grady was probably used to it anyway, the feeling of using and being used if his reputation was anything to go by. 

It could be worse, Eric had a sort of cute charm to him. Gangly, with limbs too long for his rather unimpressive height, and shockingly bright ginger hair, but his eyes were a bright green like those damned palm trees and a whole mess of freckles on the bridge of his nose and perpetually flushed cheeks. 

Still sitting at that red light, he glanced over and caught the sight of a bruise he had left on Eric’s neck, having bitten and sucked at him when he was fucking into him hard and fast the night before. Eric seemed to like it at the time, panting and bucking back into him, but when Eric caught him staring, he flushed scarlet and looked away. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the light turned green and Scott floored it. After all, the sun was starting to set and he heard Eric’s stomach growling. 

“Can we get burgers? Or pizza...no, tacos. No, burgers. Yeah, definitely burgers.”

“No, we're eating too much fast food. We're getting salads.” Scott sighed.

Sometimes, being with Eric felt like being with a child. The thought made him feel even grosser about what he was doing, a pervy old man fucking a _boy_ closer in age to his daughter. It made him feel fucked up and guilty so he stopped the car at a run down dive bar because of the faded sign, advertising “th best burgurs around”.

Sitting across from Eric O’Grady in a booth with sticky, slashed pleather seats in some shitty bar at the ass end of America, Scott thought that this was the last place on Earth he wanted to be. Watching Eric present a fake ID to get a beer, since Eric O’Grady was legally dead and also a wanted fugitive but Derek Sullivan was a nobody, he was struck with the sudden thought of how he was going to die in Florida with Eric O’Grady at his side. Scott watched him slam his pint and order another, and his sense of self preservation almost lost out.

Besides the bar, bikers clad in leather eyed the pair of them. This wasn't exactly a place for anyone but locals, especially when Eric was wearing a red sweater over a collared shirt. At least Scott fit in with his battered black leather jacket, but he was still far too clean cut and they both had hair that was far too red for the bald or gray look that was the norm in this neck of the state, strawberry blond and bright ginger. 

“Eyes down, O’Grady.” He murmured, looking down at the menu.

The edges of the paper menus were ripped, other parts were stained with beer. Scott changed a glance up and the two men had gone back to whatever else they were doing. No doubt talking about the two of them, but at least they were doing it without involving them. They would have to pretend to lose and Scott didn't know if he could take it on top of having shacked up with Eric O’Grady. Instead, he contemplated the one salad on the menu, thinking that, with the fried chicken and thousand island dressing, it was probably ten times worse for him than the burger. 

The smug smirk Eric shot him when the tired waitress came to take their order almost made him wished he ordered the salad. 

He was thankful that the burgers they ordered came relatively quick, as he really didn't have anything else to say to Eric. After about a week on the road together, when they escaped from Hydra together and vowed to take a few laps around Florida before heading out west, experiencing everything together, he relished the rare moments of silence when Eric wasn't trying to fill every moment with inane conversation.

Not to mention that the men at the bar had managed to drink three more of what they had been gulping down and were getting a bit louder. Scott and Eric were the most interesting thing in the world to them and, even as he tried to ignore it, he knew that Eric would start getting defensive. 

Even though, after one of their many nights together over the past week, when Eric was already sore from the night before but had begged for it anyway, he laid back against Scott and cuddled into his side. Declaring that he was just a “temporarily inconvenienced straight guy” with his voice so earnest and serious that Scott couldn't help but laugh at the idea. He had reached down and jerked him off again until the only noises Eric could make were soft pants and moans.

This was an entirely different situation so, when the waitress brought their burgers, Scott started eating immediately. The meat was dry and flavorless, the bun soggy from the wilted lettuce and pink tomato. Topped with an unmelted slice of processed cheese, it was truly awful but Scott couldn't bring himself to care. Eric eyed it with disgust but his hunger won out, although he pushed the lettuce and tomato off with his finger. He glanced at the crusty bottle of ketchup with a sour look on his face before he too began to eat his burger.

They both finished their burgers quickly, filling their stomachs with the disgusting meat. Other than Eric likening it to a school cafeteria burger, mumbling the observation around a greyish-brown mouthful, they ate in silence. The men at the bar grew louder with their own observation and, for some loud, aggressive straight men, they seemed to have a vested interest in what Scott and Eric were doing in bed. 

Of course, if anyone asked, they would both deny anything. He had way too much at stake, so much to come back from, and sleeping with O’Grady would just make it worse. Never mind the fact that he's the Black Ant, he's _Eric O’Grady_ first and foremost. Underneath the crimes he committed, he’s some snot nosed pervert who no one wants to be friends with, never mind fuck. Eric O’Grady was the mistake you make when you’re drunk and lonely, not when you’re sober and angry at yourself. If you do fuck him, he’s past tense and not someone you were planning on fucking again tonight.

It was what he needed. The feeling of being better than someone once again, after being the better option of every man that ever held the title of Ant-Man, being the one to betray his team when Hank Pym was dead, replaced by Ultron, and Eric O’Grady was already bad. Scott needed to be better than someone and he chose the easy way out. 

Eric shot him a half smile from across the table, the quirk of his lips not meeting his green eyes. He had seen him cry, Eric always seemed on the edge of tears, eyes always so watery. It made him flinch, made him ache for a beer that he wouldn’t let himself have until they reached whatever disgusting motel they were staying in and checked every surface for cameras or microphones. Not for the first time, the thought that no one was actually looking for nobodies like them crossed his mind and he hid his grimace as a reaction to the disgusting burger. 

Scott couldn’t bear the idea that no one actually cared about either of them enough to look for them. Hell, that’s why the Guardians refused to take him off planet, why that fucking talking raccoon had told him to piss off. The idea that he was exhausting himself for no reason, that he was having sex with Eric O’Grady for no reason, it would kill him. Biding their time, stopped in Central Florida until they can find their way over to Ultron City and hope that whatever bit of Hank Pym was left in Ultron would take mercy on them and let them camp out. At least until whatever next big world shattering event came along and he was allowed to be a hero again.

He laughed even though there was nothing funny about it and, to Eric’s credit, he didn’t look at him funny. Scott watched as he finished his second pint, stopping him from ordering another as he threw down thirty bucks and nearly dragged him out of the booth. Scott pushed past the two men as the started to approach, pulling O’Grady out behind him with a hand fisted in the sleeve of his red sweater. He could tell that Eric was ready to fight the two men from the way he was spitting insults about how backwards the entire town was and how everything about it made him gag, but they just couldn’t risk it. Instead, Scott flung Eric into the car and got into the driver’s seat, tires squealing on the asphalt as he sped out of the parking lot and back onto the eternal highway that was the entire state of Florida.

They only stopped once from that point until they reached the motel, when Scott couldn’t drive any further and Eric started to get antsy. When the tank started to run out, they had no other choice but to stop at a gas station. The attendant looked over his newspaper under the yellow light and looked back down, ignoring the moths and June bugs that flew around his head and onto the page. Scott got out of the car to pump the gas and Eric made a beeline for the tiny market that was miraculously open even though the digital clock on the dashboard kept telling him that it was nearing one am, no matter how many times he glanced at it and wished for more time.

The pump was an older model, one that Scott would’ve felt nervous using if he could bring himself to care. It clicked with every gallon and he wished that it would explode, bringing him and Eric with it in a fiery demise. Eric could be rebuilt by some self hating idiot anyway and Scott would be better off dead at this point because to be dead would be better than being stuck in Florida with his awful reputation. He couldn’t bring himself to think about that promise he made to himself, a moment which felt like a lifetime ago, where he promised himself that he wouldn’t die in Florida.

Scott looked up at the stars overhead and into the black, sparse trees which did nothing to block the half-lit Publix, and thought that it’d be a terrible place to die.

Instead, the pump clicked once more and then stopped with the tank being full, and Eric popped out of the mini-mart with a six pack of cheap beer and a plastic bag full of candy, and no one died that night. They got back into the car and drove once again, until Scott’s eyes started to droop and they found a motel sign that promised hourly rates and free cable television. When he didn’t think he could drive any longer without veering to the other side of the road and going until they found the business end of a truck with a driver that had been driving for forty hours straight.

Instead, he pulled off into the parking lot of a motel with a half-lit sign, advertising itself as the “DLUX MOTL” with illustrious features like hourly or monthly rates and color cable television. Beside him, Eric cracked a joke about vibrating beds yet Scott thought that this sort of place would be just the type to have something like that. He said so before exiting the car and telling Eric to wait there.

Asking for hourly wages was easier when the cashier couldn’t see he was with a man, couldn’t deny service upon seeing Eric. Instead, when he asked for a room for eight hours, they shot him yellow teeth smirks and handed him the keys to a first floor room without question, without thinking that he was going to be fucking a man. Scott gave a smirk back just to keep up the illusion that he was hooking up with a woman, whether he paid her or picked her up at the local watering hole which managed to look the same as all other local bars in Central Florida. Instead, he was going to be fucking Eric O’Grady, he knew it from the way the kid had been looking at him all day, sending him heated glances when he thought Scott was paying attention to the road.

Scott got back into the car and pulled up to the spot right by their door, grabbing their single bag from the back seat. Both of their lives, crammed into one small bag that could be grabbed in case of emergency. Eric grabbed the beer and whatever snacks he had bought, and he stood back as Scott turned the real key into the lock, opening the door slowly. 

There was only one bed in the tiny, beige colored room. Eric had stopped complaining about that long ago, and he helped Scott sweep the room. They checked every corner, under every piece of loose fabric and cracking plaster, behind the toilet tank and in the shower drain. Then they did it again, their search coming up empty and Scott thought again about the possibility that no one was looking for them. 

Eric checked for actual bugs, lifting up the comforter and sheets. He seemed satisfied with the results, sitting back on the bed. The mattress creaked under him, rusty springs and a big cloud of dust puffing up into the stale air. Scott watched as he stretched his long, gangly legs and ran a hand through his thick, wavy ginger hair.

Scott opened two of the beers and passed one over to Eric. It was cheaper than what he’d buy for himself and the taste on his tongue was watery and acidic. He nearly choked on the warmth of it, like lukewarm piss. It felt fitting, shit beer in a shit state for their shitty situation.

“They didn’t have anything cold?” He asked anyway, even though he didn’t actually care.

Eric shrugged instead of answering, throat working as he appeared to be attempting to swallow his beer without tasting it. He crushed the empty can but Scott caught his wrist as he reached for another one. He brought Eric’s arm up to his mouth and kissed him where he could feel his heart beating too fast. Eric looked at him with wide green eyes and Scott thought that the moment was almost _romantic_ , so he leaned in and nipped at his neck. His teeth and lips closed over an older mark, one that had started to go yellow and gray. Scott sucked at his skin and Eric made a noise that was desperate and ruined.

Eric’s hands shook a little as he pushed the leather jacket off of Scott’s shoulder. It hit the ground with a thump and his fingers ran over Scott’s bicep, curling around it and dragging him in closer. He tilted his body so they were chest to chest, and Eric ducked his head so their lips met. It was messy, mostly teeth and tongue, saliva clinging to Eric’s rosy mouth when he broke the kiss to say something that Scott didn’t want to hear, so he kissed him once more to shut him up. Eric’s mouth tasted like cheap beer and the nasty burgers they ate earlier, something that made him grimace but he pushed closer regardless because Eric made sounds that had him feeling wanted.

His hands slid under the hem of that red sweater and he broke the kiss to pull it over his head. It met the floor like his jacket did, and he started working on the buttons of Eric’s shirt. He used the open ends of the shirt to drag Eric into his lap, hands finding his waist and pulling him down to grind against him. They were both hard and Eric groaned into his mouth, fingers slipping into his hair and tugging just hard enough to remind him that he was still alive. He responded by bucking his hips up, their clothed erections catching on one another, and ducking down to kiss Eric’s neck when his head rolled back. 

He sucked a mark into a patch of bare skin on the side of his neck, over a collection of freckles that were all over Eric, who responded with another needy sound. His shirt fell off of one of his shoulders and Scott moved his mouth over the revealed skin, following the shirt until it slipped over his other shoulder and onto the floor. He pushed Eric back slightly, just enough to duck his head down and slide his tongue down his adam’s apple to find one of his nipples. 

As he kissed and sucked at Eric’s skin, he thought about what actually resided under that flesh. In that body which felt so real, so human in his arms, was metal instead of blood. Even as blood seemed to rush up to the surface of his skin, it was all just technology. It was hard to comprehend so Scott pushed it out of his mind in favor of flicking the button of Eric’s pants and pushing his hand down past his underwear to grip his cock. 

“ _Oh_ , please.” Eric whimpered, hiding the noise against the side of Scott’s neck.

He stroked him and Eric moaned like it hadn’t just been a day since the last time he had been touched. Like he was desperate and pent up, although Scott supposed that he was pent up from entire days spent driving, from endless roads and dinner at chain restaurants or local shitholes. This wasn’t just about the sex, it was about being the best option for either of them because Eric was nothing like Florida and that was the only requirement he seemed to have these days.

“We’re gonna get out of here in a few days, I promise.” Scott whispered and Eric moaned like it was the sexiest thing he had ever heard.

His hips rolled up into Scott’s hand, leaking pre-cum and making the slide easier as he stroked him until those moans turned a bit too frantic. Scott couldn’t get away with just a handjob, Eric needed more to keep himself truly satisfied. He pushed until Eric was thrusting up into his hand and panting, eyes rolling back, and then he pulled his hand away. Eric whined but pushed back, standing on unstead legs to push his pants and underwear off, laying naked on the bed.

Eric’s dick was flushed red and leaking, bobbing up and down without him having to touch it. The sight made Scott’s own cock even harder, already leaking in his underwear. He pulled off his jeans and underwear, grabbing lube and condoms from their bag before joining Eric on the bed. He usually liked to fuck him when he was on all fours, so neither of them had to look each other in the eye. But the desperate look in Eric’s green eyes hurt so bad that he couldn’t bring himself to look away, settling between his spread thighs.

He slicked up two fingers, sliding them in just to open him up a little bit and slick him up so it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for him to sit in the car the next day. Eric fidgeted enough without a burning rawness in his ass, Scott didn’t need to add to it. Still, he could feel Eric starting to grow impatient, so he pulled his fingers out and wiped them carelessly on the blanket, and poured a drop of lube on the inside of the condom before rolling it on and lubing the outside as well.

Despite how often they did this, Eric still clenched when the head of Scott’s cock pressed up against his entrance. He looked up into Scott’s eyes, blush spreading from his cheeks down to his chest. Scott gave him a moment before he pushed past the initial resistance, sliding into that tight warmth until he bottomed out. Eric groaned, watery green eyes slipping shut, and Scott moaned from the feeling of Eric around his cock. His fingers twisted the sheets as he stopped himself from thrusting hard right away. Instead, his hips started a slow, shallow motion.

He waited until Eric’s grunts turned into moans, until he started arching into them, until his cock hardened again, and that’s when he started up a quicker rhythm. One that was hard enough to satisfy both of them in more ways than just sex, the burning muscles and need for closeness to another human. Or human-like being, but there was no need to get technical. Not when Eric felt so real around him, moaning and sweating as Scott fucked into him.

Once again, he found Eric’s eyes looking desperate and needy. He leaned down and kissed him, hips thrusting at all angles until he found that spot inside of Eric that made him moan loudly, muffled into Scott’s mouth. The bed creaked under them as Scott nailed that spot over and over again, fist closing around Eric’s cock and stroking him in time with his rhythm until Eric cried out once more and came in thick, white strands over his bare chest.

It only took Scott a few more thrusts before he slammed in one last time and came, head bowing as he panted. His body shook with his orgasm and his hips twitched, shallow movements as he filled the condom with his cum. 

They both groaned when he pulled out, although Eric’s noise was closer to a whine than anything. His body trembled and he looked up at Scott with sad eyes. It was times like this when being with Eric hurt, so much pain and regret on that face. They didn’t talk about it, when neither of them could hold back tears.

As Scott joined Eric in the bed and held him close to his chest, he realized that the worst thing about all of this was that he had told Eric that they were getting out of the situation every single day they had been together. That tomorrow, they would repeat everything. 

For a brief moment, Scott thought that they would never get out. And it was the worst thing he had ever felt.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave some love (or hate) either here or on my tumblr:
> 
>  
> 
> [ Fic Blog. ](http://fanfictionolivia.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> This work also has a playlist because there are a lot of songs that I nearly titled it after.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Playlist. ](https://open.spotify.com/user/oliviathecf/playlist/6sMnmd3w7ThgE22U6o7Rt7)


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